Dei Gratia
by Shay-sama
Summary: By the grace of the goddesses he was given back his lost time. By the grace of the goddesses he is forced to remember when everyone else has forgotten. By the grace of the goddesses he has no purpose in life. By the grace of Farore, Nayru and Din.


**A/N: I don't own anything. :P**

The wind was still as a young man; a teenager really, trudged through a deep green field in worn leather boots. Wildlife was scattered around as the boy rode his mare over the seemingly peaceful field. The boy himself was garbed in a green tunic over a chainmail and a strange green hat whose tip brushed against the gilded sword handle that peeked over his back along with his shield. He had an average youthful face with blond hair that would fall just in front of his blue eyes if his hat didn't hold it in place.

But this particular boy was not average.f

If the casual passerby were to give the boy a more detailed glance he would notice the age within those painfully piercing blue eyes and the experience and wisdom that radiated off this boy, the boy is strange to the more observant civilian. It would be strange on anyone that wasn't the Hero of Time, on anyone who hadn't gone through hell and back and lived to be the one of the rare ones to remember the tale, on anyone who wasn't cursed to lose his closest ally, to lose his childhood and innocence.

On anyone other than Link these things would be strange.

Link's eyes never settled. They continuously roamed the field for threats. He hadn't survived the Seven Year War without being diligent but he knew the likely hood of a threat was little to none, but those days, those dark days instilled habits into his bones, his body and his mind that he had yet to break. He led his closest companion, Epona, to the nearest river to rest and drink some water. A slight breeze swept across the river and shook the plants nearby as Epona stopped drinking, her ears perking up but her head staying near the water. Link closed his eyes, seemingly enjoying the fleeting respite from the heat of the midday sun but he was merely counting.

Counting the men who thought themselves so clever as to hide in the bushes nearby to take advantage of an unsuspecting young man.

Counting how many seconds it'd take for them to slowly and silently make their way to his exposed back.

Counting how many times he's been attacked like so only to realize he had lost count.

It didn't take them long, four shapes made their way from the underlying bush to his back. Epona turned to face them but Link seemed to pay them no heed, his breathing was even as he took in the dark intentions which thickly layered the air. Men with hearts infected with darkness and as they advanced ever closer to Link, he couldn't help but wonder if these were some of the men who helped Ganondorf in his rise to power. Who hurt and stole or tortured and killed for their own slice of the Dark King's power. Fury instantly welled up inside of Link but he squatted by the riverside and breathed. As the last man unsheathed his weapon he spoke up,

"Gentlemen, may I help you?" Link asked nonchalantly,

"You can help us by letting us make off with your money and horse, she seems like a real beauty. She'd probably sell nicely on the market."

For a brief moment, Link remembered the pain of being separated from his companion for that brief time in the desert of that strange and twisted land. His eyes instantly narrowed and his fists clenched. Before the War he would've turned around and lashed out at all of them. But he learnt early on in those bleak days, there was a time to fight with your heart and a time to fight with your mind, knowing the difference kept you alive to fight another day.

So he smirked instead, "If I refuse?"

The leader of the group smiled darkly, and then scoffed as he turned to his other henchmen, "Kill him however you want, be careful with the horse. She's the real prize."

At his command, one of the nearby men stepped forward letting his chained sickle hang loosely before pouncing towards Link.

The attacker, in one smooth motion, spun his weapon for momentum and threw it at the crouching Link who sprung to the side in a flash, grabbed the chain as it sailed past and roughly pulled the man towards him. Unprepared for the boy's lightening fast reaction or the surprising strength in his pull, the attacker was yanked forward and Link, quickly and fluidly, leaped forward, drew his sword and lobbed off the first attackers head.

Flabbergasted, the men watched as their ally's head sailed through the air before landing a few feet behind Link. They quickly gained their wits and charged all together as Link dropped the chain and equipped his shield. Link gave them the quickest of glances before swiping his brilliant black and gold encrusted sword in the air and preparing himself for his assailants.

The swordsman of the group came up first and attacked with a much exaggerated jump strike which Link blocked before performing a powerful thrust to the swordsman's exposed middle, his sword sinking easily into his stomach. Noticing a brute approaching his exposed right side, Link cut along and out the swordsman's stomach making blood spew out of his body and into the charging brute's eyes.

Link smoothly stepped around the blinded brute and slashed at his calves, forcing the man to his knees but as Link turned to face the brute he heard the whistle of a distortion in the air and quickly spun out of the incoming arrow's path. The arrow that was intended for Link's midsection found another target instead, the brute's skull. With a pained grunt he fell face first into the blood stained grass.

Then there was Link and the last of the henchmen, an archer by the looks of it and a decent shot at that. However he was exposed and alone, his arms shook with either fear or exhaustion and briefly Link pondered over letting him go. The archer felt his hesitation and quicker than Link could comprehend an arrow was heading for his face. He moved his head to the side and the arrow cutting his cheek crushed that train of thought. As the archer loaded up his next shot, Link replaced his shield with a golden hook-shot and began sprinting towards the archer. Noticing Link's brash move, the last henchman began backpedaling and launched a quick shot but with a twist of the wrist Link cut the arrow in two.

Of course it was this moment Link was waiting for. As the man tried to load a last shot Link raised his hook-shot, took aim and fired it at the man's chest. The archer cried out as the claw embedded into his chest and dropped his bow as he was being pulled violently towards Link. The man opened his mouth to speak but Link merely released the man from the hook-shot and plunged his sword into his chest.

The archer's face contorted in pain and, as he gasped his last breath, Link whispered angrily into his ear,

"You men sicken me most. The Dark King could not have risen without you."

Link twisted his gilded sword and violently yanked it out of the chest of the evil man, whose eyebrows were creased in confusion. They always were when Link would mention anything that had to do with that darker future, the one he went through so much trouble to prevent. Every time he encountered people like the four that lay before him, those with hearts black from envy, greed, murder and rape, Link was reminded of those days.

Those days were the reason he lost his youth.

The reason he lost his innocence.

The reason that even though he was sent back to regain his lost time he couldn't because it wasn't only his time he lost in the darkness. He lost the part of himself that could lie back and watch the fireflies drift through the night without a worry. He lost the part of himself that could laugh at random things and smile contently at the most simplest of circumstances.

Somewhere in those days of death and fire and arduous pain, he lost the earnest young Kokiri that stepped out the forest four years ago.

Link sighed deeply before cleaning his sword and sheathing it. Wordlessly, he saddled himself onto Epona and with a kick they were off. Link wasn't really looking for anything in particular he was merely drifting, waiting for the time when his help would once again be needed. Waiting for the day when his skills that he had acquired in hell could once again be used for the better because that was the only reason he could find that he was sent back here, the only reason that kept him from giving up on himself.

The only reason that kept the tempting bite of his sword away from his flesh.

* * *

Okayyyyy I have stuff to say. This was written by my brother, Mcnilla, and edited by me. He gave it to me to do what I please go hit him up on his page if you enjoyed it. :D Name is also by him (By the grace of God methinks) but the summary is all meeeeeeee.

The one and only


End file.
